Will they Won't they?
by No 1 u wanna no
Summary: When Harry and Ginny meet up years after hogwarts, Harry doesn't recognise her, will he find out before it's too late?


Bear in mind...this could take quite a while ok, as you want sumthin 2 read...i'll give it 2 u, k? hope u dont mind if it's info on stuff (or RED DWARF quotes) (that should get ur attantion) hehehehehheeheheh...SO HERE WE GO.........: RED DWARF (got ur attention yet??) QUOTES: |RED DWARF V | |Holoship | |LISTER: Rimmer, you said that about "King of Kings --| |the story of Jesus!" | |RIMMER: Well, it's true! A simple carpenter's son who| |learns how to do magic tricks like that and doesn't | |go into show-business? Do any of us believe that, | |even for a second? | |LISTER: He was supposed to be the Son of God. | |RIMMER: And when he was carrying that cross up the | |hill, any normal realistic bloke would have | |mule-kicked the guy on the left, clobbered the one on| |the right, and been over that green hill and far away| |before you could say "Pontius Pilate." | |CAT: What? Am I the only sane one here? Why don't we | |drop the defensive shields? | |KRYTEN: A superlative suggestion, sir, with just two | |minor flaws. One, we don't have any defensive | |shields, and two, we don't have any defensive | |shields. Now I realise that, technically speaking, | |that's only one flaw but I thought it was such a big | |one it was worth mentioning twice. | |KRYTEN: They've taken Mr. Rimmer. (With more urgency)| |Sir! They've taken Mr. Rimmer! | |CAT: Quick, let's get out of here before they bring | |him back! | |LIFT: Floor 3125: Sports and sexual recreation. | |RIMMER: (Suddenly stops grinning inanely) Sports and | |what? | |CRANE: Sex. Don't you have a sex deck on your ship? | |RIMMER: Nnno. | |CRANE: Well, what do you do when you want to have | |sex? | |RIMMER: Well... we go for runs. Watch gardening | |programmes on the ship's vid. | |CRANE: We have developed beyond love, Mr. Rimmer. | |That is a short-term hormonal distraction which | |interferes with the pure pursuit of personal | |advancement. We are holograms. There is no risk of | |disease or pregnancy. That is why in our society we | |only believe in sex -- constant, guilt-free sex. | |CAT: Well, I say let's break out the laser cannons | |and give 'em both barrels. | |KRYTEN: An adroit suggestion sir, with just two minor| |drawbacks. | |CAT: (Loudly) OK, forget it! | |LISTER: Lister to Red Dwarf. We have in our midst a | |complete smeg pot. Brains in the anal region. Chin | |absent -- presumed missing. Genitalia small and | |inoffensive. Of no value or interest. | |RIMMER: I've guided that ragamuffin, ragtail crew of | |whacked out crazies and hippy peace-niks through hell| |and back. If I gave the order those guys would crawl | |on their bellies across broken glass with their flies| |unzipped. So don't tell me I'm not an officer, | |Captain, just because in deep space there's no | |academy around to award me my pips. | |RIMMER: We may as well have been playing tennis. | |CRANE: As it should be. | |RIMMER: I, er, don't suppose you'd fancy a tie-break?| | | |CRANE: You know ... we usually talk. | |RIMMER: What do you talk about? | |CRANE: Oh, research, new theories, mission profiles. | | | |RIMMER: I'm sorry. I must have seemed very ignorant. | |I hardly said anything apart from, "geronimo." | |RIMMER: But it _is_ possible. | |KRYTEN: Possible but highly dangerous. The side | |effects can be devastating. You could be reduced to a| |gibbering simpleton. | |CAT: Reduced? | |LISTER: Rimmer, they're a bunch of arrogant, pompous,| |emotionally-weird, stuck-up megalomaniacs. Do you | |really think you're going to fit in with them? | |(Pause) What am I saying? Bon voyage! | |KRYTEN: Sir, I beg you to reconsider. If not for your| |sanity, you haven't even considered the moral | |implications of your decision. You will be joining a | |society where you will be compelled to have sex with | |beautiful, brilliant women twice daily, on demand. | |Now, am I really the only one here who finds that | |just a little bit tacky? | |(LISTER and CAT are speechless) | |Well, quite clearly I am! | |KRYTEN: Sir, I've uploaded the two candidates to be | |inserted into your mind, science officer Buchan -- | |excellent scientific background, one hundred and | |sixty nine IQ -- and flight coordinator McQueen -- | |superlative mathematician, one hundred and seventy | |two IQ. Now, even taking into account the enormous | |drag-factor of your own mind, I still think we'll | |come up with something pretty special. | |RIMMER: Wasn't it St. Francis of Assisi himself who | |said, "Never give a sucker an even break?" | |KRYTEN: Well if he did, sir, it was strictly off the | |record. | |RIMMER: I could translate it into mandarin for you. | |LISTER: Rimmer, we don't speak Japanese, we don't | |speak mandarin, and we don't speak satsuma! | |HARRISON: Basically you spend your time salvaging | |derelict spaceships, playing poker, and eating | |curries. | |LISTER: Well we don't do that much salvaging. | |HARRISON: But you do sound like you eat a lot of | |curries. | |LISTER: There's one or two other people that we have | |to see, but in theory if we offered you the post of | |replacement hologram would you accept? | |HARRISON: No. | |LISTER: No. | |HARRISON: No, I think, erm, I'm better off where I | |am. | |CAT: But you're dead! | |HARRISON: And meeting you guys has really made me | |appreciate it a whole lot more. | |CRANE: I've never met anyone like you before. | |RIMMER: Everyone says that. | |RIMMER: Look, I'm not much good at big speeches, and | |I know I haven't always been an easy guy to get on | |with. And I know that, given the choice, I probably | |wouldn't have chosen you as friends. But, I just want| |to say ... that over the years, ... I have come to | |regard you ... as ... people ... I met. I'd just | |better go, OK? | |LISTER: See you smeghead. | |RIMMER: Oh and sir, you're wrong. We won't be apart, | |we just ... won't be together. | |A look of disgust comes over RIMMER's face. | |RIMMER: I cannot believe I just said that! | | | |The Inquisitor | |KRYTEN: Ah, Virgil's Aeneid. Oh, the epic tale of | |Agamemnon's pursuit of Helen of Troy -- the most | |classic work by the greatest Latin poet who ever put | |quill to parchment! | |LISTER: Yeah, it's the comic book version. It's good | |though, man. Absolutely full of history. | |KRYTEN: (Reading from comic book) Zap, pow, kersplat,| |die in bed you Trojan pig-dog, gnyarrg, kerpow. I see| |they've remained faithful to the original text. I'm | |sure Virgil would have approved. | |LISTER: So all of a sudden they wake up one mornin' | |and the Greeks have gone. And there outside the city | |walls they've left this gift; this tribute to their | |valiant foes: a huge wooden horse, just large enough | |to happily contain 500 Greeks in full battle dress | |and still leave adequate room for toilet facilities? | | | |Are you telling me not one Trojan goes, "Hang on a | |minute, that's a bit of a funny prezzy. What's wrong | |with a couple hundred pairs of socks and some | |aftershave?" No, they don't -- they just wheel it in | |and all decide to go for an early night! People that | |stupid deserve to be kerpowed, zapped and kersplatted| |in their beds! You know what the big joke is? From | |this particular phase in history we derive the | |phrase, "Beware of Greeks bearing gifts," when it | |would be much more logical to derive the phrase, | |"Beware of Trojans, they're complete smegheads!" | |RIMMER: So, Kryten, you've heard of this | |"Inquisitor?" | |KRYTEN: (With unnecessary melodrama) Only as a myth; | |a dark fable; a horror tale, told across the | |flickering embers of a midnight fire, wherever | |hardened space dogs gather to drink fermented | |vegetable products and compete in tales of | |blood-chilling terror!! | |RIMMER: A simple "yes" would have sufficed. | |KRYTEN: THAT is the Inquisitor -- he prunes away the | |wastrels, expunges the wretched, and deletes the | |worthless! | |RIMMER: We're in big trouble. | |LISTER: Wait a minute! Who's to say what's worthless?| | | |CAT: Oh please! Take a look in the mirror! Read your | |entry in "Who's Nobody!" | |RIMMER: Well, let's face it, Listy, lying on your | |bunk, reading "What Bike?" and eating sugar puff | |sandwiches for eight hours every day is unlikely to | |qualify. | |KRYTEN: Sir! Sir, you don't have to be a great | |philanthropist, or a missionary worker, you simply | |have to seize the gift of life! | |RIMMER: Oh god. | |KRYTEN: Make a contribution! | |RIMMER: Oh god. | |KRYTEN: No matter how small! | |RIMMER: Oh god. | |KRYTEN: You simply have to have lead a life that | |wasn't totally egocentric, vain and self-serving! | |RIMMER: You're doing this on purpose, aren't you! | |LISTER: Hang on a minute, why should we have to take | |any notice of some half-crazed rogue robot who's | |appointed himself judge and jury to the whole of | |humanity? Why should we kowtow to his judgment? | |The INQUISITOR takes control of LISTER's body again. | |He spine stiffens and electric arcs crackle around | |him. | |INQUISITOR: Because I have the power to snap your | |body in two like a dry reed! | |LISTER: Good answer, man, good answer! | |INQUISITOR: See me now and tremble! The Inquisition | |begins! Prove to me you are worthy of the honor of | |life, or drink deeply from the well of nothingness | |for all eternity! | |CAT: I hate these either-or questions. | |INQUISITOR: Because, like all who stand before the | |Inquisitor, your judge shall be... | |The INQUISITOR lifts his facemask to reveal... | |RIMMER's face. | |INQUISITOR: ...yourself! | |RIMMER: Oh smeg! | |INQUISITOR: "Oh smeg," indeed, matey! | |RIMMER: Well, first I-- | |INQUISITOR: (Interrupting) Liar! | |INQUISITOR: Some might say that's a pretty shallow | |argument. | |CAT: Some might say I'm a pretty shallow guy. But a | |shallow guy with a great ass! | |LISTER: He's crazy, Kryten! He's erased the Cat and | |Rimmer! | |INQUISITOR: They are quite safe. | |LISTER: Yo, we're not the enemy! There's a guy 'round| |'ere somewhere, wanderin' 'round obliteratin' people | |from history! We used to be your shipmates. | |RIMMER: (Sarcastically) Only we've forgotten you. | |LISTER: Yeah! | |RIMMER: (To CAT) Well, I don't know about you, but | |I'm convinced. | |LISTER: (Cutting RIMMER off) Fiona Barringson! | |Fifteen years of age. You got off with her in your | |Dad's greenhouse. You thought you got lucky but it | |turned out all the time that you had your hand in | |warm compost. How could I know that, and not know | |you? | |RIMMER: (Out of the side of his mouth, to CAT) Not | |true! | |LISTER: You got three brothers: John, Howard, and | |Frank. You're really mean with money. You're a | |tremendous physical coward. You once spent an | |afternoon on the Samaritan switchboard, and four | |people committed suicide! Your middle name's Judas, | |but you tell everyone that it's Jonathan. You sign | |all your official letters A.J. Rimmer, B.S.C., and | |B.S.C. stands for Bronze Swimming Certificate. You're| |a cheating, weaselly, lowlife scumbucket, with all | |the charm and social grace of a pubic louse! CAT: (To| |RIMMER) Gotta admit, bud, he's got a handle on ya | |there. | |RIMMER nods in agreement. | |RIMMER: Look, they're from some freaky alternative | |dimension, they've come here to hijack this ship and | |do... oooh, weird things to us. I think we should | |take the lift, put them on the security deck and | |stick them in the brig. | |CAT: I hate to say it, but for once | |TransAm-wheel-arch-nostrils is right. Come on, get | |moving! | |KRYTEN: Logically, sir, there is only one way you | |could have possibly have opened that door. I feel | |quite nauseous. Where is it? | |LISTER: Where's what? | |KRYTEN: Oh, sir!! You've got it in your jacket!! | |KRYTEN: Sir, I am programmed to relinquish my life. | |That's why the Mechanoid 4000 series was voted | |"Android of the Year" five years running! I have as | |much interest in saving my own life as a | |chronically-depressed lemming. | |LISTER: That's not true, is it? | |KRYTEN: Sir? | |LISTER: Kryten, I know when you're lying. Your right | |foot jiggles. It's involuntary. | |KRYTEN: Nonsense. | |(It jiggles harder.) | |I'm not afraid to die. (Harder still.) | |For me, death holds no fear. (His leg is now jiggling| |so much his whole body is moving.) | |I believe in Silicon Heaven! I believe in an | |afterlife for androids! Haven't you got through those| |damn manacles yet!? | |KRYTEN: Sir, we really must get down to the storage | |bay. Now remember my message to us -- that is where | |we meet the Inquisitor for the final confrontation. | |CAT: That's your plan? We go out there and face him? | |Nice plan. Shall I paint a bullseye on my face? | |LISTER: I'm gonna use my brains for the first time in| |my life. | |KRYTEN: Considering the circumstances, sir, do you | |really believe that's wise? | |LISTER: (Mocking KRYTEN) Excuse me, could I possibly | |just distract you for just a brief second? | |KRYTEN: It was the best I could ad-lib at the time. | |KRYTEN: Look sir, I've got to go back in time and | |sacrifice myself in order that we can get into this | |mess we're in now in the first place. | |KRYTEN: All in all, today's been a bit of a bummer, | |hasn't it, sir? | |KRYTEN: I believe this is an appropriate juncture for| |you to give me five, sir. | |LISTER: Give you five? I can do better than that! | |(Holding up the severed hand) I can give you fifteen!| | | | | |Terrorform | |CPU: Your ambulatory system has been destroyed, and | |your life expectancy is currently estimated at 67 | |minutes. If there is any further news we will keep | |you updated. In the meantime, here is a little music.| | | |KRYTEN: Kryten personal blackbox recording. Time: | |unknown. Location: unknown. Cause of accident: | |unknown. Should someone find this recording perhaps | |it will shed light as to what happened here. | |KRYTEN: My short term memory has been erased. This I | |ascribe to the proximity of the magnetic coils from | |Starbug's rear engine. Secondly, due to the proximity| |of the magnetic coils, my short- term memory appears | |to have been erased. This, combined with the erasure | |of my short-term memory, has has left me a little | |disoriented, | |POSSIBLE RESPONSES: REFER TO QUALIFIED SERVICE | |PERSONNEL. LIMITED FRONT LINE REPAIR ROUTINE: | |CANNIBALISE AND RECONFIGURE, CHECK TRADE-IN PRICE | |AGAINST A SERIES 5000 MODEL. | |HOLLY: And the prospect of waking up and finding one | |crawling over your clammy, naked, helpless body has | |always filled you with a kind of cold dread? | |LISTER: Well, yeah. Wotya trying to say to me, Holly?| | | |HOLLY: I'm saying it might not be your night. | |LISTER: Kill it | |CAT: How? | |LISTER: I can't think straight. I've got a | |taranshula with an eye the size of a meatball setting| |up home in my joy department. Help me. | |CAT: I'm scared | |LISTER: YOU'RE scared. How d'you think I feel? | |CAT: You haven't SEEN it!! | |LISTER: The lower half of my body has gone numb. | |CAT: That's probably for the best. | |LISTER: It's moving | | Oh *#%^**!!!! | |LISTER: Kryten, man. Keep still. I'm trying to draw a| |line here. I don't want it to go all wonky. I want as| |much of you as possible. | |KRYTEN: Sir, a couple of brief points. Firstly, you | |are not a qualified service engineer and consequently| |sawing me in two will invalidate my guarantee. | |Secondly, I wouldn't trust you to open a can of | |sardines that was already open. | |CAT: Oops. You're right. He really isn't dead. I owe | |you twenty. | |KRYTEN: Well, there are gaps. I remember Mr. Rimmer | |spotted an S3 planet on the scope and wanted to claim| |it on behalf of the Space Corps. As usual the | |ceremony consisted of planting the flag and singing | |all 23 stanzas of the Space Corps Anthem. Then the | |planet started to erupt around us, which, frankly, | |came as something of a relief. | |KRYTEN: Then things got a bit sketchy. I remember an | |explosion and then blackness. And then I remember Mr.| |Rimmer screaming. I have an image of his face twisted| |with fear, pain, anguish, dread -- absolutely | |mortified. | |CAT: Did someone suggest he pick up the tab for | |lunch? | |CAT: This is one weird place. Strange animal noises, | |unbearable stench, squelchy underfoot. It's just like| |your laundry basket at the end of the month. | |KRYTEN: We are interlopers inside Mr. Rimmer's mind. | | | |CAT: This sounds like a 12-change-of-underwear trip. | | | |LISTER: Rimmer's lust monster?! Urrgh. | |LISTER: Remember, it's Rimmer's mind out there. | |(Throws a bazookoid up and catches it.) Expect | |sickness. | |LISTER: Is it just me or are those frogs saying, | |"Useless?" | |FROGS: Useless, useless, Rimmer, Rimmer. | |LISTER: Look, we've got two choices. Either we go in | |with bazookoids blazing and try and somehow get him | |out of there or we sit here like lemons and watch him| |get tortured. | |CAT: Anybody got any opera glasses? | |KRYTEN: In binary language it goes something like | |this: 001100111011000111100, which roughly translated| |means, "Don't stand around jabbering when you're in | |mortal danger." | |RIMMER: Why're you all looking at me like that? Like,| |as if this is all my fault? Have you any idea what | |kind of day I've had? I've been kidnapped, stripped, | |oiled, menaced, manacled, licked, nibbled, chained, | |tortured, humiliated, and I nearly had a knobbly | |thing the size and shape of a Mexican agabe cactus | |jammed up where only customs men dare to probe. | |LISTER: We've got to tell him we love him. | |CAT: Arrrrgh, you're sick! I want no part of this | |depravity! | |CAT: It's true. They really do care about you. | |RIMMER: Only this morning you referred to me as a | |cancerous polyp on the anus of humanity. | |LISTER: In an affectionate way. In a kidding around, | |joking, friendly, affectionate way. | |RIMMER: It was all baloney, wasn't it? | |LISTER: What was? | |RIMMER: All that hugging stuff back there. It was | |just a way of escaping, wasn't it? I mean you didn't | |really feel that deep down I'm an OK sort of bloke; | |I'm not such a bad old stick once you get to know me.| |You didn't really mean any of that, did you? | |The others pause briefly to glance at each other and | |then respond together. | |OTHERS: (Matter-of-factly) No. | | | |Quarantine | |RIMMER: Clearly I am superfluous to this entire | |operation, ably commanded as it is by a droid who was| |created purely to clean lavatories. So I really don't| |know why you're telling me all this, Captain Bog-Bot.| | | |RIMMER: This vessel, gentlemen and khazi droids, the | |crimson short one up there, can only sustain one | |hologram, or had you forgotten? | |RIMMER: You hadn't forgotten? | |LISTER: Look, we could work something out. Some kind | |of "timeshare" thing. | |RIMMER: What d'you mean? What do you think I am, a | |holiday villa in the Algarve? | |LISTER: (Sighs) We're a real Mickey Mouse operation | |aren't we? | |CAT: Mickey Mouse? We ain't even Betty Boop! | |LISTER: Why can't we ever meet anyone nice? | |CAT: Why don't we ever meet anyone who can shoot | |straight? | |LISTER: (Still garbled) We need backup, man, we need | |it bad and we need it now! | |RIMMER: Everything OK? | |LISTER: What, can't you hear me?! | |RIMMER: (Lying through his teeth) I'm sorry, Lister, | |you're very faint. | |KRYTEN: Dr. Lanstrom has contracted some sort of | |mutated holo-plague and is in a fearful psychopathic | |fury. | |RIMMER: Marvellous! I'm sure she'll be a valuable | |asset to the team. | |RIMMER: Well we know what to get you for Christmas: a| |double lobotomy and 10 rolls of rubber wallpaper. | |KRYTEN: Lanstrom claims to have isolated several | |strains of positive virus: inspiration, charisma, | |sexual magnetism-- | |CAT: Sexual magnetism is a virus? Then get me to a | |hospital, I'm a terminal case! | |KRYTEN: Well, at a very basic level she predicted a | |kind of "reverse flu" a strain of virus which | |promotes an unaccountable feeling of well being and | |happiness. | |LISTER: That's happened to me! Me life's been turned | |to complete and utter crud, and I've woken up in the | |morning feeling good for no apparent reason! | |KRYTEN: The chances are, sir, that on those occasions| |you had unwittingly contracted Lanstrom's virus. | |According to her notes, twentieth-century DJs | |suffered from it all the time. | |KRYTEN: Yes! The most popular pastimes have always | |been ones that males can enjoy alone: angling, golf, | |and of course the all time number one. | |CAT: It's not just humans! Look what happens when two| |male tigers are locked up together! One of them winds| |up on the other guy's toothpick! | |KRYTEN: Lions, tigers, scorpions, rats, even vultures| |when they're in captivity. | |LISTER: What are you saying to me? Vultures need | |personal space? They need like time alone if they're | |to put their feet up and read "What Carcass | |Magazine?" | |KRYTEN: And if you still want to be alive when there | |is only 78 more days to go, I suggest you do not blow| |your nose. | |LISTER: Do you mind if I ask why? | |KRYTEN: Well, let's forego the noise and the | |revolting burbling sound, and go straight to the | |really gross part, when you always, and I mean | |always, having blown your nose have to open up your | |handkerchief and take a look at the contents. I mean,| |why? What do you expect to see in there? A Turner | |seascape, perhaps? The face of the Madonna? An | |undiscovered Shakespearian sonnet? | |RIMMER: I can't let you out. | |LISTER: Why not? | |RIMMER: Because the King of the Potato People won't | |let me. I begged him. I got down on my knees and | |wept. He wants to keep you here. Keep you here for | |ten years. | |CAT: Could we see him? | |RIMMER: See who? | |CAT: The King. | |RIMMER: Do you have a magic carpet? | |LISTER: Yeah, a little three-seater. | |RIMMER: So, let me get this straight. You want to fly| |on a magic carpet to see the King of the Potato | |People and plead with him for your freedom, and | |you're telling me you are completely sane?! | |LISTER: Kryten, man, are you OK? | |KRYTEN: I have a medium-sized fire axe buried in my | |spinal column. That sort of thing can really put a | |crimp on your day. | |RIMMER: Mr. Flibble's very cross. You shouldn't have | |ran away from him. What are we going to to with them,| |Mr. Flibble? | |Mr. FLIBBLE whispers something in RIMMER's ear. | |RIMMER: We can't possibly do that! Who would clear up| |the mess? | |KRYTEN: I think he's going to be OK, sir. | |LISTER: He's gonna be OK? (KRYTEN nods yes.) The luck| |virus must have worn off. | | | |Demons and Angels | |RIMMER: (Quite unimpressed) Well, I don't know if the| |Nobel Prize people run a fruit section, but if they | |do you've got to be this year's hot tip. Gentlemen, | |history beckons! You'll be famous. They'll build your| |statues. They'll even name towns after you. | |"Dorksville" springs instantly to mind. | |HOLLY: Rude alert! Rude alert! An electrical fire has| |knocked out my voice recognition unicycle! Many | |Wurlitzers are missing from my database! Abandon | |shop! This is not a daffodil. Repeat: This is not a | |daffodil! | |RIMMER: Well, thankfully Holly's unaffected. | |RIMMER: Er, I think a brisk stroll in the direction | |of the cargo bay could be an outstanding career move | |at this point. | |LISTER: What are you saying? Red Dwarf's gonna blow? | | | |KRYTEN: In less time than it takes a Norwegian to buy| |ski-boots! | |KRYTEN: Well, according to the charts, the nearest | |asteroid with an S3 atmosphere is six hours away. The| |trouble is, we only have enough fuel for five hours | |flight. I don't think that's going to prove to be a | |major problem, though, because we only have enough | |oxygen for seven minutes. | |RIMMER: I'm just being a realist. Look, you only have| |seven minutes left to live. That's tragic. (With a | |strange smile) God, it's tragic. | |KRYTEN: Remember, you are operating on emergency | |battery supplies. We have no spares. In fact, you | |yourself, sir, will expire in a little under four | |minutes. | |RIMMER: (Performing an exaggerated "Boyz from the | |Dwarf" hands dangle) | |Okay, home boys, let's posse! | |LISTER: I tell you one thing: I've been to a parallel| |universe, I've seen time running backwards, I've | |played pool with planets, and I've given birth to | |twins, but I never thought in my entire life I'd | |taste an edible Pot Noodle. | |HIGH CAT: I am part of you; your higher self; your | |spiritual side. I exist in you as potential, but now | |I'm here -- extrapolated from your being. | |CAT: Extrapo-what-alated? Buddy, there is no way | |you're a part of me. No part of me would ever be seen| |alive in sandals! | |HIGH CAT: I find clothes a distraction from the | |pursuit of spiritual and intellectual fulfillment. | |CAT: That's weird, because I find spiritual and | |intellectual fulfillment a distraction from the | |pursuit of clothes! | |KRYTEN: With respect, sir, you think Jesus was a | |hippy. | |RIMMER: Well, he was. He had long hair; he didn't | |have a job. What more do you want? | |HIGH KRYTEN: The poor wretch. He has a faulty gun. He| |has accidentally shot me five times. Oh, how I love | |him! | |HIGH CAT: Brother, there is a grievous fault in thine| |weapon. It keepeth shooting people. | |A bullet hits him in the right side of the chest. The| |HIGH CAT points to the wound | |HIGH CAT: You see? There it goes again! | |CAT: You haven't got a weapon! | |HIGH RIMMER: We have no need of weapons, feline | |brother. We wear protective herbs. | |CAT: I'm going with Bot-Brain. | |CAT: Nice movie collection. "Revenge of the Mutant | |Splat Gore Monster." "Die Screaming with Sharp Things| |in your Head." | |KRYTEN: Gore movies. Weapons magazines. This place is| |a shrine to everything that's low and base. | |Everything that's designed to sicken the soul and | |shrivel the spirit. | |KRYTEN opens the fridge | |KRYTEN: Urg! Toastie Toppers. Ugh! Cinema hot dogs. | |Ogh! Sweaty kebabs with stringy brown lettuce coming | |out! Ogh! | |CAT: I found Goalpost-Head. No sign of | |Dormouse-Cheeks, though. | |KRYTEN: Sir, we were so worried. What happened? | |RIMMER: We were ambushed by a platoon of Lows. I was | |leading a valiant rearguard action. CAT: I found him | |shivering in a box. | |RIMMER: It was tactical maneouvre to outfox the | |enemy. | |CAT: As was using his uniform as a temporary latrine.| | | |KRYTEN: I'm going to come around behind you now, sir.| | | |LISTER: Okay, Kryten, take me by surprise! | |KRYTEN: I'm coming around behind you to take you by | |surprise, sir. | |LISTER: Get on with it, surprise me! | |KRYTEN: You may get an unpleasant sensation of | |chloroform. Don't be alarmed. | |LISTER: Surprise me now! | |KRYTEN: Here comes my surprise, sir. | | | |Back to Reality | |CAT: Hey, wait a minute! I've got it! Don't fish swim| |south for the winter? | |KRYTEN: No, that's _birds_, sir. | |CAT: _Birds_ swim south for the winter?! How do they | |breath? | |KRYTEN: I'm merely stating the known facts. This fish| |relinquished its life of its own free will. Damned | |fool! | |LISTER: Why would a haddock kill itself? Why am I | |even asking that question? | |CAT: Hang five, guys, I'm getting something. | |(Pointing to each corpse in turn with his torch) He | |committed suicide, he committed suicide, he committed| |suicide, and the fish committed suicide. There's some| |kind of link here I can't quite make out. | |LISTER: I'm OK. I don't seem to be affected. | |(Beginning to break down) It's true, I don't think | |anyone ever truly loved me in my entire life, but | |there's nothing new about that. | |CAT: What's gotten into you guys? This is like | |Saturday night at the Wailing Wall! Why is it always | |me that has to be the strong one? (Starts to cry | |also) I mean you guys just fall apart. | |RIMMER: It's coming straight for us. | |LISTER: There are only three alternatives. It thinks | |we're either a threat, food, or a mate. It's gonna | |either kill us, eat us, or hump us. We can either | |persuade it that we are not that sort of oceanic | |salvage vessel or we scarper pronto. | |CAT: To be diddled by a giant squid on the first | |date? Think how we'd feel in the morning! | |CAT:[AS DWANE] What the hell's happened to my teeth?!| |I can open beer bottles with my overbite!! | |ANDY: You must have got the easy stuff, though! Here,| |what did you think of the Planet of the | |Nymphomaniacs? | |RIMMER: The Planet of the what?! | |ANDY: It's a blatant clue, isn't it? | |ANDY: Yeah! You know the bit where Lister jump starts| |the second big bang with jump leads from Starbug? | |RIMMER: (Incredulous) Jump starts the second big | |bang? | |ANDY: Well, that's the final irony, issn't it? | |Lister, the ultimat atheist, turns out in fact to be | |God! | |ANDY: Are you ... are you seriously telling me you | |were playing the pratt version of Rimmer for all that| |time? For four years?! Wow, that's a classic that is!| |That's a classic! | |DWANE: So this is really me?! A no-style gimbo, with | |teeth the druids could use as a place of worship?! | |JAKE: Jake Bullet, Cybernautic Detective. I like | |that! That sounds like the kind of hard-living flat | |foot who gets the job done by cutting corners and | |bucking authority. And if those pen-pushers up at | |City Hall don't like it, well, they can park their | |over-payed, fat ass's on this mid-digit (Extending | |his mid-digit) and swivel -- swivel till they squeal | |like pigs on a honeymoon. | |RIMMER: On the other hand, "Mr. Bullet," perhaps the | |Cybernautics division is in charge of traffic | |control. You just happen to have a rather silly macho| |name. | |LISTER: What puzzles me slightly is what a man of | |such _undoubted_ good breeding would be doing wearing| |a coat that smells like an elderly male yak has taken| |a leak in both the pockets. | |BILLY: Well, isn't it obvious? | |JAKE: No, it isn't. | |BILLY: Oh my god! My name is Billy Doyle and my | |cologne is "Eau de Yak Urine." | |SEBASTIAN: (Reading) "Vote Fascist for a third | |glorious decade of total law enforcement." | |JAKE: (Reading) "Be a government informer. Betray | |your family & friends. Fabulous prizes to be won." | |JAKE: (Whipping out his badge in an aggressive | |manner) Bullet. Cybernautics! | |COP: That's traffic control. | |BILLY: This is a nightmare. I'm on the run from the | |fascist police with a murderer and a mass murderer | |and a man in a {Brie Nidel} shirt. A flotsam, jetsam,| |human wreckage, sputum bag who smells like a yak | |latrine. And now my best flashing mac' is about to be| |splattered with an android's brain. (To JAKE) I'm | |after you with the gun. | |SEBASTIAN: (Voice breaking) Yeah, count me in to. | |DWANE: Ditto. | |JAKE: But there's only one bullet left! | |DWANE: Ah, we could put our heads together and the | |bullet could go down the line. | |KRYTEN: The Cat lost his "Cool" and life for him no | |longer had any meaning because he is so | |mind-meltingly shallow. | |CAT: That's right, superficial _is_ my middle name. | |CAT: (Happily) I'm not Dwane Dibbley? | |KRYTEN: No. | |RIMMER: (Disappointed) I _am_ Rimmer. | |KRYTEN: (Sadly) I'm afraid so. | |LISTER: Those planet engineers really screwed up in a| |big way here, didn't they? Playing god. The | |evolutionary process threw up a life force so much | |stronger and more deadly than any other species -- | |damn near wiped out everything on the entire planet. | |Spreading despair and destruction wherever it stuck | |its ugly mush. | |KRYTEN: Hmm, that sounds rather reminiscent of a | |species sitting not a million miles away from me now.| |Ha ha ha! (He laughs alone.) | |KRYTEN: You probably have to be a mechanoid to fully | |appreciate that one. | |RIMMER: Kryten, no one likes a smart-alec android. |  
  
So there you are - enough to give you a headache, well enough to give me one anyway.............................. Here's some more......a lot betta than the first lot....as i was looking for the WHOLE "Lister to red dwarf" speech...finally i found it...so here we are with some more quotes...: Lister: Come on, what are you, a man or a munchkin?  
  
Rimmer: I'm off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz.  
  
I had this Geography teacher Miss Foster, she took us on a school  
  
summer camp trip to the Ganwee. I had the tent next to her, right.  
  
And in the middle of the night I was woken up by this really weird  
  
noise. She didn't think men were better than machines.  
  
-Lister, after Rimmer states that man is better than machine.  
  
Lister: We're on a mining ship, 3 million years into deep space. Can  
  
someone explain to me where the smeg I got this traffic cone?  
  
Cat: Hey it's not a good night unless you get a traffic cone! It's  
  
the policewoman's helmet and the suspenders I'm worried about!  
  
Holly: Nothing wrong with Dog's milk, lasts longer than any other  
  
type of milk.  
  
Lister: Why's that?  
  
Holly: No bugger will drink it!  
  
I may be a shallow guy, but a shallow guy with a great ass!  
  
-Cat  
  
Kryten: They've taken Mr Rimmer! Sir, they've taken Mr. Rimmer!  
  
Cat: Quick! Let's get out of here before they bring him back.  
  
Cat: My stomach has been pumped and now I'm hungry!  
  
Lister: Rimmer's Dad's died.  
  
Cat: I'd prefer Chicken!  
  
People always leave me. I had a pet lemming once. I loved that little  
  
lemming. I even built a ledge so he could hurl himself off of. One  
  
Christmas morning I put my finger into his cage to give him some  
  
mince pie; he bit me. He sunk his teeth into my hand. That little  
  
lemming broke my heart. I had to smash his brains out on the wall.   
  
The little git completely ruined my helicopter wall paper.  
  
-Rimmer  
  
Rimmer: What should we do with them Mr. Flibble  
  
[mr flibble (the hand puppet) whispers in Rimmer's ear]  
  
Rimmer: We can't do that! Who'd clear up the mess?  
  
Oh smeg! What the smeggin' smeg's he smeggin' done? He's smeggin'  
  
killed me!  
  
-Lister  
  
I am Holly, the ship's computer, with an I.Q. of 6000 -- the same  
  
I.Q. as 6000 P.E. teachers.  
  
-Holly  
  
This is mine, that's mine, I'm claiming all this as mine ... except  
  
that bit. I don't want that bit. But all the rest of this is mine!  
  
Hey, this has been a good day! I've eaten five times, I've slept six  
  
times, and I'd made a lot of things mine! Tomorrow I'm going to see  
  
if I can't have sex with something! (starts dancing around and  
  
singing) S-E-X I think I want it. S-E-X I think I'll get it. (sees  
  
Lister lying on floor) S-E-X I think I found it.  
  
-Cat  
  
Lister: Love is what separates us from animals.  
  
Rimmer: No, Lister -- what separates us from animals is that we don't  
  
use our tongues to clean our own genitals.  
  
He won't find that one -- not until he changes his boots. (sees  
  
Lister, hides his face) "Did you see him clearly? Did you get a good  
  
look at his face? Could you spot him in a parade?" I don't think so  
  
-- that could have been anybody!  
  
-Cat  
  
Rimmer: The lamb was a bit of a flop, though.  
  
Lister: The lamb? Everyone thought the lamb was the cheese! And that  
  
lemon meringue pie, man -- what was in that?  
  
Rimmer: I thought you liked that -- you brought some back.  
  
Lister: Yeah, I wanted to try some on my athlete's foot!  
  
Additional: Our biggest enemy is going space crazy through  
  
loneliness. The only thing that helps me maintain my slender grip on  
  
reality is the friendship I share with my collection of singing  
  
potatoes.  
  
-Holly  
  
You're about as much use as a condom machine in the Vatican.  
  
-Rimmer  
  
The wacked-out crazy hippy drummer is called Dobbin. He joined the  
  
police force in the end -- became a Grand Wizard in the Freemasons.  
  
The bass is called Gazza. He was a neo-marxist nihilistic anarchist.  
  
Eventually he joined a large insurance company and got his own  
  
parking space.  
  
-Lister  
  
Holly: Ah, got him: `Tension Sheet, inventor of, Dave Lister, aged 17.'  
  
Rimmer: Damn!  
  
Holly: And he died tragically in a plane crash, aged 98.  
  
Rimmer: 98!  
  
Holly: His own fault, apparently -- he was making love to his 14th  
  
wife and lost control of the plane.  
  
Rimmer: Have you got any photographs?  
  
Holly: Not of that, no!  
  
Binks: Binks to Enlightenment. Have arrived on the derelict. Confirm  
  
initial speculation: there is absolutely nothing of any value or  
  
interest here. It's one of the old Class II ship-to-surface vessels  
  
-- the very model, in fact, that was withdrawn due to major flight  
  
design flaws. Crew: three. One Series 4000 mechanoid, almost burnt  
  
out. Give it maybe three years. Nothing of salvagable value. Ah,  
  
Felix Sapiens -- bred from the domestic housecat, and about half as  
  
smart. No value in future study of this species. What have we here? A  
  
human being, or a very close approximation. Chronological age: mid  
  
20s. Physical age: 47. Grossly overweight, unnecessarily ugly,  
  
otherwise would recommend it for the museum. Apart from that, of no  
  
value or interest.  
  
Lister: Lister to Red Dwarf. We have in our midst a complete smegpot.  
  
Brains in the anal region. Chin absent, presumed missing. Genitalia  
  
small and inoffensive. Of no value or interest.  
  
Binks: Binks to Enlightenment. Evidence of primitive humour. The  
  
human has knowledge of irony, satire and imitation. With patient  
  
tuition could, maybe, master simple tasks.  
  
Lister: Lister to Red Dwarf. Displays evidence of spoiling for a  
  
rumble. Seems unable to grasp simple threats. With careful pummelling  
  
could, possibly, be sucking tomorrow's lunch through a straw.  
  
Binks: Binks to Enlightenment. The human is under the delusion that  
  
he is somehow able to bestow physical violence to a hologram.  
  
Lister: Lister to Red Dwarf. The intruder seems to be blissfully  
  
unaware that we have a rather sturdy holowhip in the munitions  
  
cabinet. Unless he wants his derriere minced like burger meat, he'd  
  
better be history in two seconds flat. (eats cigarette, removes his  
  
jacket)  
  
Binks: Binks to Enlightment. Recon mission complete. Transmit. With  
  
speed. Enlightment, quickly, please.  
  
I'm not the greatest at making speeches, so I'll just get this over  
  
with. I know I haven't been the easiest person to get along with,  
  
and I know, given the choice, I probably wouldn't have chosen you as  
  
friends.I just want to say. over the years, I have come to regard you  
  
as ... people I met.  
  
-Rimmer  
  
"Kryten personal blackbox recording. Time: unknown. Location:  
  
unknown. Cause of accident: unknown. Should someone find this  
  
recording, perhaps it will shed light as to what happened here. My  
  
short-term memory has been erased. This I ascribe to the proximity of  
  
the magnetic coils from Starbug's rear engine. Secondly, due to the  
  
proximity of the magnetic coils, my short-term memory appears to have  
  
been erased. This, combined with the erasure of my short-term memory,  
  
has left me a little disoriented."  
  
-Kryten  
  
(lines like ` this' are typed -- spelling errors sic)  
  
Lister: Help. Something is crawling up my leg. I think it's a  
  
taranshula.  
  
Cat: You're playing that dumb adventure game!  
  
Lister: It's in my boxers. I think it's making a nest.  
  
Cat: Well, buy a potion from Gandalf the Master Wizard -- that's what  
  
I usually do.  
  
Lister: I'm SERIOUS.  
  
Cat: (looks down, sees it, then begins typing too) It has an eye  
  
the size of a meatball.  
  
Lister: Kill it.  
  
Cat: How?  
  
Lister: I can't think straight. I've got a taranshula with an eye  
  
the size of a meatball setting up home in my joy department. Help me.  
  
Cat: I'm scared  
  
Lister: YOU'RE scared? How d'you think I feel?  
  
Cat: You haven't SEEN it!  
  
Lister: The lower half of my body has gone numb.  
  
Cat: That's probably for the best.  
  
Lister: It's moving. Oh *$%^**!!!!  
  
Hand: Hello. Kryten in danger. No time to explain. Follow.  
  
Kryten: Sir, a couple of brief points: firstly, you're not a  
  
qualified service engineer, and, consequently, sawing me in two will  
  
invalidate my guarantee; secondly, I wouldn't trust you to open a can  
  
of sardines that was already open.  
  
Holly: Rude alert! Rude alert! An electrical fire has knocked out my  
  
voice-recognition unicycle! Many Wurlitzers are missing from my  
  
database! Abandon shop! This is not a daffodil! Repeat: This is not a  
  
daffodil!  
  
Rimmer: Well, thankfully, Holly's unaffected.  
  
Luv, Jayne xx 


End file.
